Some mornings, I don't know how the run happens. In bed, I think "better for me to sleep, need to get rid of this cold..." and then next thing I know I'm under the baseball hat, the sound of running shoes on pavement. That's addiction for you, I guess.
In California, I had the most beautiful run of my life. A little outside of the town of Olema, a trail that ran through the woods, mostly shaded by trees, all the way to the ocean. It was the hardest run I've ever had, too. Eight miles, inclines that lasted just long enough to make me think I couldn't go on, followed by a downhill slope just in the nick of time. It made me happy.
As did the rest of the trip. Little Wren in his orange-striped outfit, how could that kid not make you happy? I landed at SFO on Wednesday morning and drove to Kristin's so that we could have a meal together before I drove out to the coast. We had brunch, the perfect first meal of any vacation. Some fancy California benedict with avocado of course, and the best banana pancake I have ever had (sorry Dad!).
Kristin and me in England, ages ago
I don't even know where to start with the rest of it. I didn't take a single photo once I got to Tomales. I was just there, and as good as it's been the other years, it was even better this year. McNally was an amazing teacher, and my workshop included all the Seattle members of my writing group, as well as Karen N, from New Orleans. There was sunshine and good food, bread pudding, fantastic readings from the Faculty, including beautiful new work by Pam, read at the bookstore in Pt Reyes, and of course, oysters.
I'll just say this - I feel like a new person. Just in time for the start of year 38.
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